The Things I Do For a Story






The alley was eerily quiet, save the occasional fly buzzing around the small heap of rubbish. Even in the early afternoon, the alley was rather dark with not a ray of sunshine visible. Suddenly, I heard three taps behind me and I jumped.


"Don't turn around. The day is young...." the deep voice began.


"But time won't pass quickly," I recited the coded phrase. "You are...?"


"Quiet. Hands on your head, stay still."




"Quiet!" The voice barked and I did as instructed. Suddenly, gloved fingers started patting me down, from my head hair to my face and down to my arms. "Hey!" I cried.


"You want to meet Am-heh," the voice said, "you stay still!" He continued to pat me down, his hands feeling my breasts now, then bra outline, then probing my buttocks and legs. Finally, the unexpected but slightly humiliating search was over. "Hands by your side," he commanded then I gave a yelp as a dark hood was wrapped over my head, blocking my vision. "Boss says your not allowed to see," he replied curtly then he half dragged me into what I expected to be a car and was buckled in.


You may wonder why I bothered to go through this. My name is Liz Maundrill, a junior investigative reporter for an international magazine. I had heard about a mafia-like boss, codenamed Am-heh, the name for the Egyptian God of the underworld, who was an influential supporter of a left-wing group in the African region. Am-heh's funding for arms helped clamp down on extremism and terrorists in the region, although some human rights groups said he was violating international norms. No one had every seen Am-heh in person but I managed to traced down several of his colleagues and secure a short interview with him, albeit on all his conditions. The coded message was definitely one of the means to identity myself to his gang, but not the pat-down. Still, this was a golden opportunity I wasn't going to miss. My boss was indifferent to it, but promised a pay rise if I got an interview with him.


The vehicle jerked forward and the seat belt naturally tighten around me. It must be either an old car or the driver was inexperienced since it continued to jerk forward every few minutes as it moved along. After around twenty jerks or so, the vehicle screeched to a halt and the door to my right was open. "Get out, do not turn around again and wait," he man whose face I didn't see ordered. I didn't argue with him this time and did so and my belongings were deposited to my side. Before I could even pick my bag up or remove the mask, another voice said:


"A ray of success..."


"Comes from a pile of misfortune," I answered. "Look, when...."


"Shut up," he barked and suddenly my arms were yanked behind me. I felt a sharp pain as my wrists were bound together. "Hey, what's this? I didn't ask to be bound....mmmph!!!" His glove hand clamped down on my hooded mouth.


"You want to see Am-heh?" I nodded but struggled.


"He doesn't like people to be freed. So, let me do you up."


"Bu....mmmmmph!" The hood was partially lifted up and my nostrils were pinched, causing me to open my mouth. In came a tube and I felt straps cut against my cheeks--I was being gagged! With some sort of adult BDSM gag! I heard a click as the gag was secured and the hood was draped down again. Before I could try to run, my ankles too were bound with zip ties. Restrained and gagged, he lifted me up with ease and carried me in a fireman's lift, my skirt flying up. O damnit, why did I choose to wear a skirt?


THUMP! I was thrown down on a hard surface and despite my restricted eysight, I knew it was the boot of a car. "Mmmmpph!!!" I cried as the hood was slammed down shut. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I'm being kidnapped I thought. Instead of some interview with a warlord or gang leader, I'm being sent of to possibly some sex slave ring. I struggled and yelled through the gag but it was hopeless...


This time the vehicle took only about ten minutes before it ended its journey. As the hood snapped out, I continued to cry out and struggle but again I was carried out. Before I knew it, I was deposited on the floor and nearly tripped due to my bound ankles, had the new man not caught me. To my surprise, he immediately removed the dark hood and with the snip of a scissors or a knife, the zip ties were removed.


I immediately reached up to remove the buckled gag when I heard him say 'stop'. "Plmmmmm..." I cried.


"You still want to me Am-heh?" Part of me didn't give all this ridiculous treatment, but another part still did, so I nodded.


"Take off your clothes then."


"WHmMMM?!" I cried.


He raised his arm and I saw a gun in his hand. "Don't let me repeat myself."


What the hell has my body or clothes have to do with the interview?! I considered resisting further but the threat of than weapon was too great. Red with embarrassment and humiliation, I dropped my coat on the ground then slowly removed the spaghetti top underneath, revealing my dark blue bra. Then, shivering, I dropped my skirt, exposing my black bikini panties.


"Plsmmmmdmmmm," I said, asking not to fully undress.


He nodded and still gagged, I was yanked to the next room, where I was pushed onto a bolted down chair and restrained to it and blindfolded. I heard footsteps as this man retreated away but then new footsteps arrived. Tensing up, I suddenly felt the gag being loosened and then it came off, although it was hung against my neck.


"So, you are the reporter Maundrill," I heard the heavily accented voice.


"Ye...s," I coughed, my saliva, drooling down my chin. "Wait, you are Am-heh? Why am I treated like this?"


"Ask me the questions you want to ask," the voice said.


"No! Why am I tied up and strip off! Give me back my clothes and free me!"

"Ask me the questions you want to ask," the voice said again. "I do not want you recording or writing anything. Ask or you will be sent away."


"No...." But the lure of interviewing him was too great....




Days later...


"Well, so you did manage to get the interview after all Liz," my boss commented.


"Told you I would," I replied, wearing a long-sleeved shirt that hide the red marks around my wrists.


"I guess you earn your pay," he said, passing me a check. "Take the rest of the day off as well."


I returned home and was about to enter the kitchen to get a cold one when I heard a noise from the back door. As I turned, I felt a prick against neck and fell unconscious....


I woke up groggy again and tried to rub my eyes but immediately felt resistance from my arms---my wrists were bound!!!


"Hello again Miss Maundrill," I heard the same voice I did a week aggo. Oh my...."It's you Am-Heh!" I cried, seeing a masked figure standing over me.


"I think I owe you a bit more to the interview," he replied, propping me up. "So ask more questions."


"But...but..." Over the next hour, I learnt more about his childhood and education and much more about how he came to be such a leader. "Ah, thank you for all this," he said, getting up.


"Hey, aren't you going to release me?"


"No, I believe you enjoy this don't you?"


"Enjoy? No..." before I could complete my sentence, he pushed me face down on my bed and again, my nostrils were pinched and something was stuffed inside my mouth, sealed with tape. "I have to catch my flight back home," he commented. "But there are scissors nearby and you've done this before as a child haven't you?"


Much later, I eased the stuffing out of my mouth and was shocked to see it was one of my own panties. I considered calling the authorities to report this break in but only smiled and wrote up another news article.










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